


Soft Dreams

by sunsetjenny



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Dreams and Nightmares, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetjenny/pseuds/sunsetjenny
Summary: Keith has had nightmares all his life.That is, until he met Lance.Oh, how quickly did those nightmares become unimaginable dreams of wonder and love.Of pure bliss.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69





	1. Where It All Began

**Author's Note:**

> I have this short fic to offer!
> 
> I actually really like how I wrote this one!
> 
> Also, I never write in Keith's POV, so I thought I would try!

Keith rarely dreamt.

By rarely, he means once in a blue moon.

Those few and far between times when the moon was just at the right angle, the temperature in the room was perfect, and his body happened to be in the precise balance between exhausted and well-rested was when Keith experienced the wonders of dreaming.

For Keith's dreams weren't your typical weird, fantasy allusions that children were often believed to experience in which your wildest imaginations came true.

Oh, that was the most sugar-coated explanation Keith had ever heard.

His dreams weren't lollipops, sparkles, and rainbows galore.

No.

His dreams were nightmares.

Bloody, horrific, terrifying nightmares that twisted and turned your organs inside out with fear until the dreamer woke up screaming and coated in their own sweat after being trapped in that so-called dream world for hours on end, unable to wake up or escape the horrors of their mind.

Those were the dreams Keith had been forced to witness sometimes.

Growing up most of his childhood as an orphan, Keith had experienced those reality-bending dreams about once every few months on his own. Eventually, he learned how to cope with the aftermath of the nightmares quietly enough that he would not wake up the other sleeping children in the orphanage, hoping that none would ever find out his embarrassing secret.

This had continued all the way up to the time when Keith first met Shiro, and soon after being accepted into the Garrison, the horrific dreams became few and far between and less scary to pre-teen Keith.

During these few months of harmony, Keith had almost worked up the nerve to mention his problem to Shiro, a small part of his brain convincing himself that the older male would be able to find a way to help him.

He never got the chance to.

Shiro soon went missing about a year after meeting Keith, leaving his distressed ex-fiance, Adam and a heartbroken child behind.

That's when the nightmares started coming back with a vengeance.

They continued to get worse after joining Voltron, the stress of each life and death mission and the responsibilities of being a paladin by day leaking into the back of his subconsciousness, flooding his nightmares with more fuel to create horrifying experiences.

The nightmares became more frequent and long-drawn-out as well.

What had formerly been a once in a few months occasion, became every couple of days hell which left Keith more exhausted and worn out then he had been before sleeping.

Of course, no one noticed the difference for Keith was always known to be grumpy and snappy towards people.

But, there had been a small light at the end of the tunnel, a guilty pleasure, and warm comfort for Keith in Voltron that he had yet to discover.

And that comfort was none other than the blue paladin himself.

Keith hadn't realized Lance's effect on him and his chaotic mind until after joining the Blades, that temporary feeling of peace immediately leaving his mind the moment he marched outside of Voltron.

It had first began as a petite, and easily ignorable feeling that welled in the back of Keith's brain, a small poke every once in a while when he was about to lose control of his emotions.

A sort of reminder to remain calm and to not lose focus.

It continued to morph from then on.

As Keith and Lance gradually became closer and ultimately shedding their old titles of rivals and taking the new label of "friends" that feeling continued to grow stronger inside of Keith's gut, hauling him out of making impulsive, dangerous decisions and lulling him to sleep at night when the world seemed to shut him out completely with its unempathetic actions.

But it hadn't stopped there.

After Sendack had nearly stolen the Castle of Lions along with almost killing Lance, a spark had been set between the two that could not be singed, even with the threat of the intergalactic war going on around them and the knowledge of all the obstacles their relationships would have to overcome along the way. 

On his way to the healing pod, Keith had been carrying Lance stiffly in his arms, keeping the other teenager about a few inches away from touching his chest.

He barely even knew the guy, and he was sure as hell not going to start snuggling up to him as they walked, for what if someone caught them and thought of a whole different scenario?

About halfway through, Keith had finally felt his little to none self-control crack and took a risky glance down at his fellow flight partner.

That had been one of the many significant mistakes Keith made that night.

In his arms, Lance lay passed out with small twitches that traveled between his eyes, his eyebrows moving every other second as if he were dreaming.

Keith observed the motion as he walked, wondering if Lance experienced frightening nightmares as he did.

To his surprise, he was right.

Not even an exhale later, the Cuban boy started twitching even more in grasp, the soles of his feet kicking side to side, matching the rhythm of his shoulders, which relaxed and tensed in a practiced motion.

Unsure of what to do, Keith decided against his better judgment and brought Lance closer to him, cradling him against his chest in a snug hold.

That was the first-ever time Keith had felt that feeling clearly, it's presence hugging the outside of his ribs and warming the crevices of his heart.

That feeling was further amplified when Lance pressed in closer to Keith, snuggling up under his neck as if this were a regular day and he and Keith had been dating for years.

That had made it entirely harder for Keith to let go of him when he arrived at the healing pods moments later.

Oh, and of course Keith couldn't get those few minutes out of his head for the next days or so, the memory of Lance's relaxed expression and the feeling that had made its way into his heart haunting his thoughts until the last ray of consciousness was shining before his eyes, and the murky darkness of sleep caught Keith into its ghostly grip.

He hadn't had any nightmares that entire month after that.

Or the next.

Or the one after that.

Just plain,

Soundless,

Twilight.

It had been peaceful.

Then, Keith had to ruin it.

He had to let his prejudiced emotions get the best of him, had to rebuild that internal wall with thicker, more seal proof bricks to block out any possibility of someone else getting through its barriers, and had to push away Lance before he got anymore closer to Keith and got a peek of those simmering feelings building in his gut.

It wasn't as if he didn't know what he was doing.

He just didn't want to accept the truth.

He acknowledged it the day he first went to visit the Blades with Shiro and fought the several blade members there to get a chance of joining the group and finding out any snippets of information about his mother.

The whole time he was fighting that small calming feeling had been absent, a ghostly presence in his chest that left everything it touched cold and numb, leaving Keith paralyzed and weak in battle.

It felt…

Unfamiliar.

Keith hadn't felt this way for a couple of months since the incident with Lance, who coincidentally denied any relation of memory with it.

Not like Keith was surprised.

But, of course, Keith had to become attached to that feeling, latched onto its unusual warmth and hoard it for himself, take that one trace of love and hide away from the rest of the team before they even got the chance to see it.

He knew it was selfish, but he did it anyway.

So, it wasn't much of a surprise that when he announced his decision to leave Voltron and join the Blade of Marmora, that feeling halted to a stop all at once when Keith caught eye of Lance's broken expression, his face twisted into a sad smile while his eyes told of another story, a more intense and scrutinizing tale.

Keith stills kicks himself in the ass over not running after Lance once that meeting had ended and confessing his feelings for him.

To ease that burden of one-sided, and unconditional love for the other male in case he never returned.

However, that would have messed up all the universe had in store for Keith and Lance.

Still, leaving Lance had been one of the hardest choices Keith had ever had to do, his head and heart each making persuasive arguments, one more in favor of each decision than the other.

There had been some positives about him leaving, though.

One of them being gifted a surprise present that made Keith's stay away from Voltron a lot more bearable.

Dragging his feet across the floor, Keith had miserably entered his room to collect his remaining items when he stumbled upon a newly folded jacket sprawled across the clean sheets of his bed, its forest green texture contrasting against the grey and dull interior design of the room.

Lance's jacket.

Lance had given up one of his only prized possessions to Keith, understanding that he may never wear it again.

His last connection to their ordinary lives on Earth.

It was a heartfelt gift.

One that Keith was all too weak to reject.

Returning the gesture, Keith shuffled throughout his room in search of his usual red cropped jacket, his face lightening up at the sight of the fabric peeking out from underneath one of the drawer's doors.

Pulling out the article of clothing, Keith had gently smoothed out the bundles of wrinkles and imperfections on the jacket until it was not creased and newly folded, tucking it under his arm as he peeled his eyes towards the inside of the bottom drawer, fetching a clean pair of gloves.

As quickly as physically possible, the retired black paladin had tiptoed through the dimly lit hallways in search of Lance's door, using his recently obtained Blade tactics to blend into the walls.

Arriving at his teammate's door, Keith had hesitated for a second, his mind reeling backward in a desperate attempt to convince Keith to bail out on this plan.

Yet, somehow that delicate, warming feeling returned to its rightful place in his gut, egging him on, erasing those anxious thoughts from existence for the time being.

He refused for this night to be another pointless scene in the ongoing film of nightmares that tortured him every time he closed his eyes.

Rapping on Lance's door with a few light taps from the back of his knuckles, Keith had paused for a few seconds to listen for any movement, pressing his palm against the door monitor after being greeted with the kind presence of silence.

Inside, instead of it's usual clean and organized appearance, Lance's room had been greatly disheveled with random drawers thrown wide open and clothes laying askew over the cool floor, Lance's back up signature jacket lying amongst the wreckage.

It was unlike him.

Very out of character for the picky teenager.

Gritting his teeth, Keith had pushed down the usual dosage of guilt that squeezed the inside of his ribs, willing his mind not to conjure up another far fetched imaginative story that involved Lance's reaction to Keith leaving and how he was handling such situation.

He had dreamt through all too many nightmares to be haunted by his mistakes during the day.

Especially in this close proximity with the red paladin himself.

So, with quiet footing and grace, Keith hopped over the articles of clothing littering the ground and had carefully placed his old jacket along with a pair of shiny new gloves on Lance's bed where it would catch his eye anywhere he stood in the room.

And with that done, Keith had hustled down to the hanger to climb onboard a Mamora ship with the inevitable thought that he might never return, the muted sounds of metal against metal and the occasional yell from the training room answering the open-ended question of where Lance had been.

He should have left a note.

A note would have made that lengthy period of vacancy easier.

Yet, he didn't.

So, with a heavy heart and a spontaneous mind, Keith ventured off onto his own path, kicking aside his companions that had helped me tremendously earlier when even the thought of seeing the crystal blue oceans of Earth was deemed impossible, and cursing the very existence of their names and families had enough leverage and guilt to force him to continue moving onward and never look back.

In addition to the bottomless curiosity for whom his mother was and the soul-wrenching desire for the addicting feeling of adrenaline in battle, the grounding brush and weight of Lance's jacket kept Keith sane through all those sleepless nights and unfathomable mornings when it seemed as if reality had warped into an endless day where the idea of beginnings and endings, minutes and seconds seemed to cease to exist.

When the hazy void between consciousness and subconsciousness restrained Keith in its inevitable trap of nightmare after nightmare, of blood-curdling screams of terror from his former teammates to the lifeless body of Lance, curled in next to him, the last remaining grains of life clinging onto the once sparkling boy, now crumbled under the force of death and the fate he succumbed to.

Through all that pain, self-loathing, and internal despair that snaked it's a way around Keith's already fragile heart, came to the gift of rebirth and the empathy of the universe to cast away the intended gloom and suffering Keith was subjected to endear and instead replaced it with the opportunity to finally meet the women behind his existence.

Krolia.

With this one speck of hope in a world of utmost despondency, Keith had been ignited once again to keep fighting, to harbor those raging, intense emotions for his second-hand man, and to preserve his mother's name in the highest honor by bringing tranquillity and victory to the collapsing universe around them by defeating the Galra and subsequently returning to his rightful place of leading Voltron. 

Even with the weight of irrational night terrors clawing at his back, his persistence did pay off in the end.


	2. Where It All Finally Ended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> I know I said this would be a short fic, but you guys know me by now.
> 
> ANYWHORE, ENJOY THIS!

To the hours on hours spent ruthlessly training in the Blade's Training hall against inanimate, lifeless battle droids mimicking his enemies strategies in battle and sometimes even his past teammates to the high-cost missions that left Keith in a state of emotional numbness along with his screaming joints that begged the Blade member to rest for once in his life, Keith continued, pushing himself further and further each day to fulfill his long-awaited promise.

To return to Voltron.

To return to Lance.

Hence, after spending two years in the quantum abyss with his new mother while adopting a cosmetic wolf gifted from beyond the stars, Keith escaped the nightmarish zone, and with the help of a stranded Altean girl, Romelle, finally stepped back on board those quintessence fueled walls of the Castle of Lions.

His reunion was more anti-climatic and bittersweet then he had imagined various times throughout his strenuous stay in the vigorous alternate reality.

His teammates had been astounded at his return, each expression morphed into a different stage of grief; shock, denial, pain, bargaining with the idea of his existence, anger, unreachable sadness, and the hardest of them all, acceptance.

Shiro had been in shock.

Hunk, pain.

Pidge, anger.

Coran, acceptance.

Allura, denial. 

And Lance had been bargaining and sadness.

Unexplainable, heart wrenching sadness that shredded one's lungs and soul, leaving behind only the cry of pain and idea that there was no way to heal this tremendous amount of suffering.

And it had been Keith's fault.

That realization gave his nightmares all to much material to use over the past months on his stay on the ship.

It wasn't a surprise that the weight of that blame along with the burdening pressure of his remerging feelings resulted in Keith coping with what he knew best, fighting with others.

His first encounter had been a fight.

His next few had been enraged arguments between each member on the team which of course eventually lead to everyone separating to different parts of the ship with specks of wild embers and toxic fumes following the tail ends of their footsteps.

On all too many of those fights Keith had debated the intolerable question of following Lance and almost imagined the highly unthinkable thought of somehow ending up regaining his trust and rekindling that slow, aching desire to igniting that yearning feel for friendship and the impossible idea of something more, something intimate and soft.

But, knowing Keith, he didn't.

And with the steady rise of boiled up emotions that rose and rose each time the paladins fought, from the time they had gotten stranded in the middle of space to the distressing moments after being awoken from a restless slumber in the dim lights of a Galra ship, each paladin felt further and less emotionally connected to the other.

Each time Keith's nightmares escalated, becoming more realistic and heart-pounding than the last.

The nights after Lance's all too many close calls had been the worse for Keith, his body jolting awake every hour to the silent screams that were ripped out of his throat unwillingly, hands outstretched in front of him as the ghostly image of Lance's lifeless body clung weakly in his grasp.

He had hoped no one noticed the deepening black eyebags that pulled at the already weak skin under his eyelashes.

At the way his body moved slower and more stiffly in battle.

Or the obvious movement of his eyes glancing at the new red paladin next to him, always frowning, never catching his gaze.

This corrupted figurative dance the two had finished before Keith's absence had started up once again, further apart and more aggressive than the last.

Neither decided to end it.

Neither wanted to give in.

Excruciatingly slow months had passed, Lotor had been defeated and left to be consumed by quintessence itself in the quintessence field, The Castle of Lions had been destroyed, Kuron or that is what Keith thought the Shiro's clone name was had been killed, Shiro was brought back to life, the team returned home to Earth only to be greeted by the Galra force, and half of the civilization had been destroyed.

Everything was worse.

However, all was not lost.

For there came back that shimmer of light again, that touch of warmth that soothed the raging fire of anger in Keith's blood, and sharpened his attention to details around him.

It had started small, of course.

While the paladins had been at the Garrison hospital after the near-death experience with Sendack, Lance had peaked his head into Keith's room, just a split second, waiting to catch Keith's eye before ducking out again, the slap of bare feet against tile echoing in the black paladin's ears.

It happened again the next day.

Then for the next several days.

Almost as if Lance was creating a routine out of it.

And Keith was damn well ready to join in.

It didn't take long once Lance had caught a whiff of Keith's eagerness to reconnect and make up for the lost time and even greater loss of contact.

It was nearly a week later, just as the hands of the clock brushed against the large bolded numbers labeled 12, when Lance shuffled into the humid hospital room, his arms swaying breezily beside him.

Keith had been cleaning the scratched surface of his blade when the rap of feet had startled him, craning his neck up to watch in bewilderment as Lance took a timid seat on the edge of his bed, fingers tapping rhythmically against the thin sheets.

They didn't talk.

Just sat close to one another in silence, both avoiding each other's stares.

It had been enough.

After that first day of awkward tension and unspoken apologies, the two paladins began to work together in alignment, each pushing and pulling their way through the year of separation and coldness.

Just like old times.

At least, that's what Keith had thought of.

Unbeknownst to him, there would be one last hump in their friendship that would mold him and the other paladins for the rest of their lives.

That would mold Lance for the rest of his youth.

It had all gone downhill the moment Haggar was announced to be the latest and final threat for Earth and the rest of the universe.

What started as a last attempt to free the galaxies from the Galra region and terror became a mess of love triangles, pain, and want that twisted its ugly head into Keith and Lance's recovering friendship and even more into Keith's dreams.

The guilt and unattainable want that pressed into his lungs from all sides knocking out the rush of swallow breath that fogged up the guizer of his helmet as he listened to his fellow teammates chatter, Lance chiming in once every blue moon.

That was another difference Keith had noticed after his return home.

Lance had become more silent.

The Lance he had known before his leave seemed close to a whole other person, an overdramatic, animable, yet charming and enthusiastic teenager.

The boy who now sat in the pilot of the red lion seemed to barely fill that space, least of all the role of being Voltron's honorary "sharpshooter".

That boy seemed to only be there for everyone's amusement and the butt end of a joke if they had no one else to pick on or laugh at.

What had once been the Garrison trio, now became the Garrison duo, Pidge and Hunk going off together after most missions to discuss battle strategies and authentic pieces of technology that could aid Garrison in future attacks of the Galra.

Not once did they invite him to join or to stay just a second while longer to wait until he jumped out of his lion.

It stung.

Even though it wasn't even happening to Keith, it hurt.

To make ends worse, Lance and Allura came together not long after Haggar's plan was unleased, the two sneaking off on dates at least once a week. 

It hadn't bothered Keith at the beginning for he knew it was bound to happen eventually.

It began to pinch him the wrong way the second week after Allura and Lance had met up, their dates becoming shorter and shorter.

Instead of Lance being overjoyed and heartfelt after each date, his feet airy and light, the blue paladin seemed heavy and almost hopeless, his shoulders sagged and tense.

The several lines under his eyes giving him away every time.

Keith had attempted to point-blank discuss the topic with him any chance he had gotten, ranging from catching up to Lance after meetings to juggling the idea of walking into his dorm, but the latter always brushed off his words of worry and plastered on one of the fakest smiles Keith had ever witnessed, blocking out his real emotions from him.

How had he gotten away with it before?

Nonetheless, that fake, chilling smile plummeted into the messy file of nightmares and spiraled Keith into a deeper sense of helplessness, his heart swelling with the need to dissolve the distress of his close friend.

As the days welled down, and the darkness appeared to blanket over the Garrison academy completely, the paladins came together for their last time and pushed forward into the unknown light of the area between dimensions.

It was there where the teenage pranks, late nights out to the gas station, all-nighters until the first rays of sunlight warmed the soft skin of the paladin's faces, and the last ounces of childhood innocence shivered up and vanished out of its form and rebirthed into the numbing reality of adult-hardships.

It was there where Allura drew her last calming breaths and shared her remaining moments in her human form with the paladins around her, each tender affection burning its touch into their skin.

Where Allura and Lance shared their ultimate chaise, yet senseless kiss and the beautifully unique Altean marks which Allura had sported around with her since birth and entranced Keith every time he caught glimpse of their gentle blue light against caramel skin burned into the edges of his cheeks.

That is where Allura was reunited with her parents, and the older generation paladins greeted her into the distinct world, a world made up of pure quintessence and everlasting peace.

A world where Allura would happy.

With Lotor, of course.

They had a lot of catching up to do, along with a handful of heartfelt apologies coming from the Galran prince.

Fast forward through all the year after the incident, the blue lion took off in the middle of the night, letting out one last deafening roar to Lance in particular before blasting off into space, disappearing for the time being.

The rest of the lions remained on Earth, perking on the edges of buildings and following their owners wherever they traveled by foot or vehicle as cosmic guardians.

It almost reminded Keith of housecats following their owners around the house on the tips of their paws for food, always ducking under tables or squeezing between cabinets to hide from watchful eyes.

On top of that, the day after Voltron returned home from their mission when tensions finally resolved and Earth was in the midst of celebrating its freedom from the temporary dictating force of the Galra, Shiro was reunited with his long-lost fiancé, Adam.

Let's just say, it wasn't a sweet reunion.

More or less a reunion full of spiteful remarks and ticking time bombs that reached their five-second countdown before exploding in front of both male's faces.

Although, it didn't take long for the two to embrace one another in a warm embrace, tears softening the edges of their chins.

Keith vividly remembered zoning out after that touching scene, his glazed-over eyes finding a home at Lance's as the two stared at one another from across the Garrison courtyard, those unspoken words boiling back up again.

It was that very exchange that led Keith all the way up to this very second, where dreams became reality, and he awoke to the sound of Kosmo's soft whimpers in the dog bed below.

The former red paladin found himself awaking from another one of those dreams that only existed to temper with him with patches of lost memories of his youth.

When he used to be plagued by the wickedness of nightmares and doused in the chilling idea of another day at war once he awoke to the pitch-black dark of the Garrison room.

That had been a year and a half ago.

Momentarily, those night terrors were just distant, tough to reach memories that slept in a secure corner in the back of his brain, never having the chance to resurface again.

The current dreams that found their way into imagination at night were manifests of giddy experiences he witnessed during the day, ranging from heart-racing moments of chasing Kosmo through the thick, dense forest, to quiet, private moments Lance and he shared under the shade and protection of the ingrown oak tree that grew in the front of their cabin.

Keith found himself making a habit of plucking a single, wispy leaf every time they visited together, either embedded into the hair resting above Lance's ear as they laid under its safe presence while the other did the same to him, or throwing them askew over the dewy grass floor.

An unexplainable emotion squeezing his ribs every time. 

Funny enough, instead of being suffocated by a sense of fear and loneliness, he was now being smothered with warmth and an overflowing sensation of love that practically warmed his nook of the universe.

Lance.

Tipping his head down, Keith instantly caught sight of the brunette as the ends of his growing hair tickled the spot beneath his nose, a barely suppressed sneeze tickling the inside of his throat.

The fresh morning sun was barely creeping over the windowsill of their two-bedroom house as it's embracing rays curled around the edges of the bed, illuminating the photograph of the paladins celebrating Allura's one year of passing.

Shifting his attention back to male in front of him, Keith took notice immediately to the fact of small huffs of warm air were being pressed against the column of his throat. The Cuban boy had his face pressed into the space below Keith's chin, bathing in the heat that radiated off Keith every second he was around the star-crossed paladin.

In a mess of tangled limbs and sprawled up blanket sheets, Keith happily gave up attempting to unravel himself from Lance's grasp, and instead welcomed it even more.

It was no use anyway, the Cuban boy had Keith wrapped around his finger so much he wouldn't escape even if he wanted to.

Throwing his free arm around the other's man's chest, Keith allowed himself to be swallowed up by the pillows once again, his final coherent thoughts being of the softness of Lance's hair against his chin.

It may have been minutes or hours later when Keith awoke again, this time to the gentle press of kisses on his cheeks as he swatted away a squawking Lance, nearly knocking him off in the process.

After successfully retrieving him once again after a few failed tries due to the random laugh attacks from both paladins, the two laid side to side from another, their hands interlocked in a secure hold between them.

Brushing aside the stray hairs that had fallen over Keith's eyes, Lance gave Keith the highest honor of cracking his first smile of the brand-new day towards him, no one else but the black paladin allowed this breathtaking scene along with infinite amounts of bragging rights if he ever were to need it.

Fuck.

Unable to contain his utmost affection for the sun kissed male, Keith hastily crushed the other boy into his chest, broken ends of bubbly laughter escaping Lance playfully as stray butterfly kisses fluttered over the surface of his marks and anywhere Keith was able to reach in time, drunk on the sweetness of passion.

Every kiss and affectionate press of limbs against one another added another featherily skip to his heart, enlarging the spark that had been set off between the two all those years ago.

Every delicate touch made Keith feel as if he had chugged down a gallon of sparkling water, the rush of bubbles popping inside of his chest as happiness overcame him again and again, spilling out from the sides of his eyes.

How did he ever survive this long without Lance?

How did he manage to go through every day with that profound sense of longing that raced through his mind and kept him up to the early hours of the morning, being occasionally satisfied with a passing glance or a rare laugh from his flight partner?

Now, that unbearable ache in his chest spread throughout the rest of his body, traveling down to the tips of his fingertips to the crevices between his toes, consuming him whole, and replacing the person he once was with a better, fuller version.

For love hadn't fixed the scars and trauma that had followed Keith around for the younger parts of his life.

No.

He fixed through wounds himself.

Love just added to the healing process and made everything brighter.

And here he was prompt, in the present, at this moment, with Lance.

Not stuck in an infinite nightmare or chasing a far-away reality of being accepted and loved by the people around him.

In the greatest dream, he could ever conquer up.

Forever, at a place of rest.

Home.

"What are you thinking about, mullet?"

"You, only you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm-
> 
> Guys, please stop finding my old fics, they are so bad why do people keep reading them.
> 
> I have tried to block Love and I'm Fine out of my memory <3

**Author's Note:**

> I love pining Keith as you can tell :)


End file.
